


Baby It's Cold Outside

by chooken



Series: 12 Days of Westlife [3]
Category: Westlife
Genre: Awkwardness, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Embarrassment, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Milk And Cookies, Misunderstandings, Nervousness, Snogging, Snowed In, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 18:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: Shane doesn't know if he wants to stay or go, all he knows is he's not ready for what Kian seems to want.Or, this was my desperate attempt at making Baby It's Cold Outside not sound like a date-rape song, because it really really is and it's icky.  But this fic is not icky, it's just Shane being cute and nervous and jumping to conclusions.





	

****“It's really coming down.”

Shane peered out the window, nose almost to the frosty glass. It was definitely Christmas. He'd spent all morning shovelling snow from his parents' driveway, would probably be doing the same again tomorrow.

A kiss brushed his ear. He smiled, relaxing into the arms winding around his waist.

“Warm in here, though.”

“Yeah.” He shivered slightly at the next kiss, just behind the lobe. “I had a nice night.”

“Good.” Kian's voice had a soft smile in it. The same smile that had been there all night, as he'd held Shane's hand under the table, as they'd kissed carefully in the car. As Kian had asked him to come in for a nightcap.

He'd come in. Of course he had. Now he was starting to regret it. The snow was piling up around Kian's car. He'd probably have to call a cab, soon, didn't know if one would even pick him up in these conditions.

“I should call a cab,” he said anyway. Kian pecked his shoulder.

“Stay, if you want.”

“I...” He felt his cheeks go a little red. They hadn't... done that yet. Not for lack of wanting to. And he did. Want to. Every time he felt big warm hands on him, every time he saw Kian smile shyly at him from under golden lashes, fingers curling into his grip.

“I'll sleep on the sofa,” Kian said quickly. Shane nodded gratefully. “I didn't mean...”

“I... I know.” He didn't know that he had. Wasn't sure if he was disappointed or not. “I'm sorry.”

“Why?”

“I know you want to...” He swallowed. “I'll get there. I will. It's just...”

“It's _fine_ , Shane.” He was turned, then, away from the cold darkness outside, and in to look into clear blue eyes that were watching him fondly. Their hands linked together at his side, Kian's other arm still around his waist. Shane looped his own around strong shoulders, laughing when Kian pecked him playfully on the nose. “There's no rush.”

“Yeah. I know.” He nuzzled shyly into Kian's jaw. “I'm really sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“We've been going out for three months. We're supposed to...”

“We're not supposed to do anything,” Kian interrupted. “I know how I feel about you, okay? How I've always felt about you.” Shane pulled him in tighter, feeling a little overwhelmed. The hand in his squeezed, then let go. “Come on. How about I get you a drink?”

“My parents are going to worry...”

“Phone's in the hall.” He gestured. “Give them a call, if you like.”

“That'll sound good. Yeah, mam, I know I was on a date with Kian, but I'm going to sleep at his house, actually.”

“You're eighteen, Shane, I think they assume you're having sex,” Kian chuckled.

“But we're not...”

“I know.” Kian winked. Shane felt himself blush. “It's bad weather. They'll understand.” He pulled away slightly. “You do that, and I'll pour us a couple of glasses of something. Think there's a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet. I could do some cheeky Irish cocoa?” Shane nodded. That did sound nice, actually, something warm. He hadn't had that much to drink at the restaurant, just a couple of beers, and he'd be getting a cab anyway.

“I'll just let them know I'll be late,” he decided. “I can't stay.”

“Up to you.” Kian let go, then nudged him slightly. “Go on.”

Shane nodded, heading to the phone. When he looked up, Kian was out of sight, his footsteps echoing slightly on the floorboards as he headed through to the kitchen.

The call was quick. The line was a little scattered with the weather, but he told his mother that he was at Kian's, that he was just going to stay until the storm calmed down a bit. He tried not to babble, tried not to sound completely embarrassed, especially when she said perhaps he should just stay the night, then, to be on the safe side, a knowing smirk in her voice.

He hung up the phone with his cheeks on fire.

Kian was boiling the kettle when Shane reached the kitchen. He stood in the doorway to watch, smiling awkwardly when Kian tossed a grin over his shoulder.

Three months. Three strange, awkward, wonderful months. Shane hadn't expected it. Not for a second. He'd always been friends with Kian, always suspected Kian was a bit... that way. He'd never suspected it about himself, though. Not for a moment. Had guiltily brushed it away as just a phase, or innocent curiousity, when he'd found his thoughts drifting. To Kian. Always to Kian. To a wide, cheeky grin and the way Kian always looked out for him.

They'd been comfortable. Had always spent time together, singing and hanging out, and now that they were doing this boyband thing together, rehearsing and doing shows at the local theatre, it felt like they had almost become each other's lives, in a way Shane didn't feel with Mark or Derrick or any of the others. In a way that would feel like a gap had been made if Kian wasn't there to fill it.

He hadn't meant to love Kian. Had been hard pressed not to, when Kian was so sweet, taking him out and caring for him. He'd never felt that with girls he'd been with, always felt a little inadequate when he tried to reciprocate, like there was no way he could ever be as good to Kian as Kian was to him.

He loved Kian.

He didn't know if he was ready to love him. Not like that.

“Here.” Shane looked down in surprise, realised a mug was being pressed into his hand. “You zoning out?”

“Little bit,” Shane admitted. Kian kissed his cheek.

“What you thinking about?”

“You.”

“All good, I hope?”

“Dreadful,” Shane teased. “Can't stand you.”

“Walk home, then.” Kian nudged him towards the door. “Go on. Freeze to death.”

“I did say I was leaving. You wouldn't let me.”

“True.” A hand squeezed his shoulder on the way past. Shane followed, into the living room. Kian's family were all away for the weekend, his parents and younger siblings, so they had the house to themselves. Shane didn't know if he'd be more or less nervous if they were here or not. “Want me to get a fire going?”

“It's fine.” It was warm in here, anyway. Shane took a sip of his drink, coughing slightly. “Jesus, how Irish is this?”

“Is it too strong? I can...” Kian reached for it, looking concerned. Shane laughed.

“It's fine. Just have to go slow on that one.” He put it carefully down on the side-table. It was still a bit too hot anyway. He sat down. Kian sat beside him, an arm coming gently around his shoulders. “Still coming down out there,” he commented.

“Yeah. Pretty, though.” It was, pale static against an ink-black sky. Fingers teased gently through his hair. “So, what have you got me for Christmas, then?”

Shane laughed, snuggling into him. They fell into conversation. They always did. It was comfortable like that. Even if there wasn't anything to talk about, Shane never felt awkward around this boy. His friend. Boyfriend. There was plenty to talk about, though. Christmas was less than a week away, Kian was almost on holidays, only had a few months of school left to go before he graduated, and Shane was excited about starting college at the same time. Between that and the band, everything felt exciting and new, like their lives were finally starting to put themselves together, the two of them building one puzzle with pieces that just seemed to fit.

“Another?”

Shane looked down at his mug. He didn't know when he'd finished it. He was a little tipsy now, he suspected, had just been sipping it absently while they'd been talking, not having paid much attention.

“I should probably stop.” It was after eleven now. He'd really have to think about calling a cab.

“Here...” Kian took the mug gently. “I'll rinse these. You want something to eat? I can warm up some cookies if you like? Think there's chocolate chip in the pantry.”

“I...” Shane hesitated. “I should go.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know.” He glanced towards the window. It was coming down harder. No sort of weather to be driving around in. “Okay. That sounds nice, then. Just until the weather...”

“Definitely.” Kian wandered away.

Shane bit his lip, watching the snowflakes drive down on the other side of frosty glass.

The cookies were nice. Kian had just warmed them in the microwave, but they were gorgeous dunked in the glasses of cold milk that his boyfriend brought out. A bit of his crumbled soggily into the milk, and he laughed when Kian reached in with two fingers and fished it out, popping it cheekily into his mouth.

“I hope you washed your hands.”

“Why? Wanna know where my fingers have been?” Kian wiggled them, giving Shane a lascivious wink as he did. Shane giggled awkwardly, looking up in surprise when a kiss pressed quickly to his cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Just... you know. For being you.” Kian did it again. Shane turned, and within a moment lips were parting against his, soft and pliant. He heard himself make a soft noise of approval, and felt fingers wrap carefully around his wrist, sliding down to remove the glass from his hand.

He opened his eyes, feeling a little hot, though maybe that was just from the alcohol. The glass went down on the coffee table.

Kian leaned in again.

“Oh,” Shane breathed, though that was the best he could do before he felt fingers curl into his hair. Kian was soft. Tasted like whiskey and chocolate, his breath hot on Shane's bottom lip when they drew apart enough to snatch a breath, the kiss mending a moment later when Shane ducked in, not prepared at all for the rush of want when teeth scraped playfully at his top lip.

It was hungry, by the time they broke. In a way it hadn't been before. Their first kiss had been chaste, Kian bending in and quickly pecking his mouth, then drawing away just as fast, as though he was afraid he was going to get a slap. He hadn't, mostly because Shane had been too busy grinning stupidly at his own feet.

The next one had been nicer. Hands above the neck and soft, peppery kisses that had turned into something more as they'd gotten a little bolder, both of them with eyes open and watching each other carefully, giggling slightly between each one like they were doing something wrong.

They'd gotten braver, over time. Kian was a good kisser. Shane was addicted to it. To feeling a hand skating down his spine and resting in the small of his back, stroking there like Kian wanted to go further but wasn't sure, breaking away to soothe affectionate kisses up to his ear, Shane moaning softly and wanting not to feel the way he did, hot and not in control of himself.

Like now, soft breaths rumbling against his mouth and Shane trying not to tease, trying not to encourage, but wanting to badly. Wanting to feel the hand on his thigh drift a little higher, the one on his neck drift a little lower, especially when he felt his own breathing speed up, high and gasping as Kian pressed against him on the sofa.

“Shane...” Shane closed his eyes, head tipping back on a shiver. A hand slid up the side of his jaw, fingers catching over his ear and making him tingle as they stroked back down his neck, kisses teasing at the corner of his mouth, biting at his lips, picking slowly up his cheek until he thought he was going to go mad, his fingers claws on Kian's shoulder, the other hand wanting badly to move down his back, grab the round, firm muscle he'd always noticed curved under boring black school trousers.

“Kian.” He gulped. Wanted more. Wanted this. But... “I...” He shuddered. “I should go,” he said quickly. Kian made a soft, protesting growl. Shane put a hand on his chest, nudging him gently away. “I should go,” he said again.

Kian's eyes were dark, when he looked up. Shane swallowed, caught by the want there. Fingers soothed slowly down his jaw, tingling where they brushed over the damp marks of kisses.

“Shane?”

“I should go.” He stood. Tried to ignore the fact that he was hard. Harder than he'd expected, or particularly wanted to be. Kian licked his lips, leaning back slightly on the sofa. Confusion was trickling into the look of passion, now.

“What's wrong?”

“I just...” He backed away slightly. “It's too soon.”

“We don't have to...” Kian stood up as well, looking concerned. “Shay, I didn't mean...”

“I know. I just. Erm.” He tried to take a deep breath. “Call me a cab, please?”

“Shay, it's...” He looked towards the window. “It's a blinder out there. A cab's not going to want to...”

“Call me a cab,” Shane said again. His heart was beating too fast. He was probably overreacting, but oh. “I want to go.”

Kian bit his lip. There was hurt in his eyes.

“I can make up the sofa. Really. I don't mind...”

“Why won't you let me leave?” Shane interrupted. His voice sounded too shrill. Kian flinched. “I said I wasn't ready. I asked you to call me a cab, and you won't...” He stepped back a little, arms crossing automatically over his chest. “Were you trying to get me drunk, or something?”

“Shane, I'm not...” Kian was going a little pale now, spots of colour sitting high in his cheeks. “I wasn't trying to do anything. We had a nice night, and the weather was bad, so I thought...” He paused, studying Shane, then let out a careful breath. “I'll call you a cab, okay?” He shook his head, then, and turned away, heading down the hall. Shane watched him go, biting his lip.

Kian came back a few minutes later. Shane was sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, trying to slow his racing heart. He was being ridiculous, probably, panicking about something that wasn't actually happening. But he didn't know how to explain. That he felt like his own body was trying to betray him, desperate for something he wasn't ready for.

Kian stopped in front of him. Shane looked up.

“Line's down,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry, Shay, I tried to call, but...” He looked nervously down, like he was worried Shane was going to accuse him of tampering with the phone. “I don't know what to tell you. Do you want me to try driving you, maybe?”

“I...” Shane hesitated. Kian's car was practically ancient, could barely keep it's tread in the rain, let alone in a snowstorm. “I'll walk.”

“Shane...”

“I'll walk,” he decided. “It's not that far.”

“Shane...” Kian looked like he was trying to think of something to say. It's too dangerous. You're mad. Shane knew all those things. It didn't make it any easier, though at least the cold might cool him down a bit, stop him feeling so much like a dog in heat. It was embarrassing, was what it was. He didn't...

“I'll walk.”

“I'll walk you, then,” Kian said. He didn't look sure at all. “Let me get my coat, okay? I'll walk you.” He trotted up the stairs, throwing a concerned glance over his shoulder. Shane waited until he was gone, then headed for the door.

It was cold outside. Blisteringly so. Shane shivered, knotting his scarf around his neck. He'd grabbed it on the way out, along with the coat he'd shrugged on. It had been chilly at dinner, but this was practically arctic, spirals of cold sliding into his clothes and under his skin, freezing him from the inside out.

This was madness. Out in the cold like this, running away from a perfectly nice boy. His feet slid slightly on the steps, but the snow was starting to pile so deep that it was around his ankles before he got clear of Kian's front yard. He could feel the snow soaking through his clothes, into his socks. It calmed things down at least. There was always that.

How could he explain it to Kian? That he'd never meant this. Never meant to be this, or want this, or feel this. That every step closer was one more he couldn't retrace, that his body wanted what his mind had never planned on needing. That if he did this, if he let Kian make him...

It wasn't Kian's fault. He knew that. It was easier if it was Kian's fault.

He was halfway down the street when a gloved hand touched his shoulder.

He turned, feeling frozen tears sting on his cheeks.

“Shane.” His voice was almost lost in the wind. Worried blue eyes studied him, while he tried to find the words to explain. “You didn't wait for me.”

“I...” The sob made it out before the words did. He was folded in before he could find them again, arms wrapping carefully around him, his face buried in the soft fur lining the hood of Kian's coat, settled around his shoulders where it had fallen back in the wind. He felt a kiss brush his cheek, Kian's lips still warm on his skin.

“You still want me to walk you home?” Kian murmured against his ear. He shook his head, sagging into the embrace.

It was still warm when they got back in. Kian helped him off with his coat, moving carefully like he thought Shane might snap if provoked. He didn't think he had the energy. It was after midnight. Even if he had made it home, he would have woken everyone up coming in. He didn't know what he'd been thinking.

“I'll make you a cocoa,” Kian said, once he was on the sofa. “Hold the Irish.” He headed into the kitchen. Shane buried his face in his hands.

Kian was back a minute later.

“Talk to me,” he said softly. Shane took the mug, felt it warm his frozen fingers. A hand touched his shoulder, tentative. “Did I push, or...?”

“No.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...” He couldn't look Kian in the eye. Stared into the steaming brown murk instead. There were marshmallows floating in it. For some reason that made him smile, if only for a fleeting moment. “I'm sorry.”

“I don't understand.”

“I feel like...” He wiped his eyes, the other hand holding tighter to the mug. “I feel like I'm not me, you know? Somehow. It's... hard to explain.” He still couldn't look at Kian. “I'm gay.”

“Well, yeah,” Kian joked awkwardly. “Thank god for that, too, or I might have been misinterpreting the whole dating thing.”

“Yeah.” Shane grimaced. “It's just... I want you. I do. But I feel like I'm not ready to go there yet, you know? Like...”

“I know.”

“But.” Shane sighed. “Why are you ready, then? Aren't you scared?”

“No. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because...” He bit his lip, trying to think. “I told my parents about us, and that was hard, but they were okay with it. And that was nice, but now it feels like this is who I am, you know? Like I need to be that person, and I don't know if I can...”

“What person?”

“The kind of person that... has sex with boys.”

“Oh.” Kian leaned forward, chin resting in his hands. Shane still couldn't look up. Couldn't make eye contact when he felt so completely stupid and ridiculous. “Okay.”

“But you want to, so.”

“I do want to, yes,” Kian said slowly. “But I also want to be with you, and hang out, and date you, and do all that other stuff. You're my best friend.” Their shoulders pressed carefully together, and Shane couldn't help but feel that soft, comforting rush of being touched, even casually. Because Kian made him feel like that, every second. “I mean... I assume you want to have sex eventually? If we're never going to, then I don't know that we're really...” He sighed. “Would you like to go back to just being friends, then?”

“No,” Shane said quickly. “No,” he murmured. He didn't. For all his skittishness, he supposed it was going to happen eventually. He couldn't imagine just being friends with Kian, not feeling like he did. “Eventually, yes.”

“But not right now?”

“No.” He bit his lip. “Except I _do_ want to. That's the problem. Like, my head says I don't, but...”

“Okay, well...” An arm reached around his shoulders, moving slowly, and Shane sagged a little when he felt fingers stroke his arm. “I guess it's really up to you. I'm not going to push you either way. I told you that, remember?” Shane nodded. He had, when Shane had said no the first time they'd started to get hot and heavy. “So why did you freak out tonight?”

“I...” He groaned, leaning his face into Kian's shoulder, burning with embarrassment. “I'm sorry. I feel like an utter tit. I think I just... I couldn't leave, and you kept trying to convince me to stay, and it just felt really big. I didn't mean to...”

“What, storm off and freeze yourself to death?” Kian chuckled. “Shay, I wasn't trying to convince you of anything. The weather's shitty, and I wanted you safe. That's all. The phone's out, a cab wouldn't come anyway, and I can make up the sofa. It's really not a big deal.”

“No.” It wasn't. When he pulled away Kian's eyes were dancing slightly with laughter. Shane managed a smile back. “I overreacted.”

“You did,” Kian laughed. “It's okay, though. It's one of the things I like about you.”

“What, that I fly off the handle?”

“No, that you've got a whole world going on in here...” He kissed Shane's forehead chastely. “...that is a total mystery to me. It's a bit frustrating sometimes, but shit it's cute.” He winked over a crooked grin. “Let me in some time, okay? I'm always interested in hearing what you're thinking. I bet it's brilliant.” Shane grimaced bashfully, laughing when Kian tickled his side. “I'll wait for you,” he promised. “As long as you need me to.”

“Thanks.” He took a sip of his cocoa. The marshmallows were all mushy.

It was late. After cocoa Kian took him upstairs to his bedroom and tucked him in. It was sweet, Kian tucking the blankets carefully up around his chin while Shane lay like a pin beneath the covers, smiling when a kiss touched his forehead.

“Bedtime story? Lullaby? Night light?”

“Thank you, no,” Shane laughed. “Just because I go off like a baby, doesn't mean I am one.”

“No, definitely all man.” Kian's fingers dug into his sides, making him laugh and squirm, caught in the blankets. “Goodnight Shane. Love you.”

“I...” Shane's breath caught. Kian had hesitated, cheeks going slightly pink. They hadn't said that yet. Shane didn't even think Kian had meant to, except he was biting his lip now, watching him earnestly.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine.” He smiled. “Love you, too.”

“Oh.” A small smile snuck across Kian's mouth. Within a moment he was beaming, looked completely flustered. Shane knew how he felt. “Oh, okay. Yeah.” He backed away clumsily. “Night, then.”

“Night, Ki.” Shane couldn't keep the smile off his face. The storm was getting worse, but in here it was warm and safe. The light clicked off.

The door closed.

Shane snuggled up in the dark, breathing in Kian's scent, oblivious to the wind howling outside.

 


End file.
